Cobwebs
by snowcloud8
Summary: When a spiderweb gathers dust, it becomes a cobweb. Encounters with Spider-Man exist outside of the usual super-villain confrontations, yet the stories just sit there, untold and gathering dust. A series of drabbles talking about the various encounters with Spider-Man, and the lesser adventures of the web-head and those around him. Multiple universes, movie verse, comic verse, AU


**Chapter 1: Road-trip  
**

Ever have a day where you wake up and your head feels like it was pressed by a trash compactor? That was how Peter Parker felt when he first woke up Saturday morning. Though he couldn't tell what time it was, since he could see nothing but darkness, he knew he was awake from the ache in his side. His whole body felt like it was stretched thin, like a piece of silly putty, and then smashed back together.

Thinking it was something wrong with his costume, he ran his hand over his face, feeling the familiar tug of his Spiderman mask slipping off, before running his hand through his hair. Nope. Nothing wrong with the mask. Maybe he was locked in a trunk or a dark room? He felt an unusual crunch of dirt and plant life shifting under his arms and feet as he pushed himself up before he felt his stomach give a sickening lurch.

"Whoa! Head rush…" he moaned, falling onto his knees as vertigo began to take its toll. _Easy does it, Pete. No need to rush into anything,_ he thought to himself, holding his head between his legs until the world decided to stop spinning. Gradually, his eyesight began to clear. He blinked owlishly, seeing bits of color spot into his vision, though the hues he was seeing wasn't the usual muted dullness of concrete or the chrome sparkle of a skyscraper. In fact, quite the opposite. The world smelled fresh and alive, not like the usual smell of downtown car exhaust or rancid street garbage he had come to know and love. When he stood up, the first thing he saw when his vision cleared was corn. Nothing but corn. Rows of cornstalks surrounded him at all sides except for the ones that were currently crushed beneath him.

"Toto, I don't think we're in Manhattan anymore…" Peter gaped at the sudden shift in scenery, wondering how he had ended up so far from home. Running his hands through his hair, he tried to think more clearly. There had to be a rational explanation for why he was standing in a cornfield in the middle of nowhere. He thought back to his most recent memory involving a jewelry heist.

 _Last thing I remember was… fighting the Spot and… being thrown into a portal._ Well, that certainly would explain why he was out in the middle of nowhere, but why did it take him so long to remember that? Was it because of the distance between the portals, like servers sending an email across the world, and it just took longer to send that much data? Possibly, but now the question remained of how far those two portals were, and how far they had sent him. Peter had thought to check his phone, but whatever happened inside the portal had damaged it beyond all repair. Figuring he wouldn't get any answers by just standing there, Peter spun himself a bag made of webbing fluid and picked a few ears of corn from the broken stalks he had crushed earlier and started walking.

* * *

If you had told Vern Taylor that he was someday going to give Spiderman a ride in his tractor, he would've questioned the quality of their drinking water. To him, it was just another Saturday. He'd just finished checking up on his cornfields when he spotted an unusual sight: a guy dressed up like Spiderman standing on the side of the road.

Normally, most people would keep driving, since hitchhiking wasn't the best way to find good company, but Vern knew better than to turn a blind eye to those in need. Gradually, he pulled his tractor to a slow stop beside him before manually rolling down the passenger window.

"Need a lift?" Vern asked as the man lowered his thumb.

"Thanks. Couldn't tell you how long I've been walking," Spiderman said, placing his foot on the tire rim before pushing himself up and sliding into the passenger seat with a satisfied sigh.

"Must be hard not to move around without any buildings to swing on," Vern chuckled, humoring his oddly dressed passenger. The hero let out a small sarcastic laugh.

"Well, usually I don't do my business outside Manhattan," Spiderman replied. "This might sound like a strange question, but where exactly am I?"

"Just a little outside of Watson."

"And that's in…?"

"Wisconsin."

"Holy cheese-heads, Batman!" he exclaimed, startling the farmer. "Sorry, wrong franchise." Vern gave him a once-over before shaking his head and put his tractor into gear.

"So, where to?" he asked.

"Uhh..." Spiderman paused before giving him an awkward laugh. "I suppose New York is a bit far for you."

"Yeah, that's a little outside my way. I'd drive you to the next town over, but my wife currently has the car to do her weekly grocery shopping, so you might have to wait a bit. You're welcome to stay for supper though."

"O-Oh, I wouldn't want to impose."

"Please, you wouldn't be imposing. We're just going to throw something on the barbecue. We do it ever Saturday. Besides, Sally doesn't mind having company, and we have a landline you could borrow if you need to call somebody." Spiderman thought for a moment considering his options before giving him a shrug.

"Well, as long as you're not having corn." Vern let out a small laugh, hearing the smirk in his voice. Vern looked up at his rabbit foot dangling from his rear view mirror as it waved back and forth while he moved the gear shift into his fastest gear when they moved onto more solid road.

"So do you gotta name?" Vern finally asked.

"Isn't it obvious?" Spiderman gave him a look, gesturing dramatically to his costume. Vern just thought he was being funny and decided to humor him again. And people thought country folk were strange.

"Alright, 'Spiderman.' Name's Vern, Vern Taylor."

"Nice to meet you, Vern," Spiderman greeted cordially as he shook his hand. "So... you're not going to ask why I'm all the way out here, dressed like this?"

"It's none of my business, and I don't take kindly to prying into other folks' private affairs, although I would be lying if I didn't say I wasn't curious. You in a hurry to be at a costume party or somethin'?"

"Or somethin'." Not wanting to pry any further, Vern settled back into his seat and focused on the road. Aside from the sound of cicadas, the air was filled silence and tractor smoke. While his new friend laid his head back in the seat, the farmer was already planning out the rest of his day in his head. He could practically taste Sally's homecooking, and was especially excited that he would finally get to try out that new vat of barbecue sauce he had gotten from a hunting buddy of his. If his tractor could keep up the pace without slipping into tortoise gear like it sometimes liked to, he might even get to see the last half hour of Gunsmoke. However, that dream seemed to go up in smoke when he heard a foreboding clunk.

"Ah dagnabbit!" Vern cursed, pulling his tractor to a stop before jumping out of the side. Half of his bumper was scraping the gravel road by the front left tire and the other half was barely hanging onto the tractor.

"You alright, Vern?" Spiderman asked, looking out of the side window.

"Yeah. Just my bumper, nothing you gotta worry about. Picked a bad time to rust off of the bolts, though."

"Here, let me help you with that," he offered eagerly, jumping agilely outside of the tractor with such energy and enthusiasm that Vern couldn't help but envy, suddenly longing for the days of his youth.

"I appreciate it, son, but there's nothin' you can do. That bumper's been hanging from my tractor by a thread. Thought it would at least hold up until I got back home. Now, unless you got a blowtorch or a vat of superglue hidden in that costume of yours, it looks like I'll have to find some way to transport it back without it ruining my tires."

"Well, I don't have any superglue, but I do have a good alternative." Vern's eyes widened in shock as he watched the hero shoot multiple spiderwebs lining the tractor before sticking the bumper firmly back into place. He gave it a solid pat. "That should hold it for now, but I wouldn't put off going to the mechanic. The webbing will only last for about an hour." Vern took off his John Deere trucker cap before wiping the sweat gathering on top of his grey, thinning hairline.

"Well, how about that," he let out a nonplussed breathe. Looks like this was going to be an interesting Sunday after all. Andy was going to be so surprised when he got home.


End file.
